I’ve always been in contact with ‘the other side.’ To varying degrees, true, but the ability to perceive it has always been there. I had never heard the term ‘psychopomp’ until just a few years ago, while taking my Reiki II class. It was then that I also found out that I am a psychopomp, although I can’t say I was surprised. Every place I’ve lived, and most of my workplaces have had resident spirits, and during my time there, that resident spirit has moved on.
Ghosts like me; several have told me they’re ‘drawn to’ me. My friend and teacher explained it like this: being a psychopomp means there’s something in my energy signature, or aura, that is a big bright shiny beacon to spirits. I’m easy for them to ‘see’ both earthbound spirits, and those on ‘the other side.’ I work very closely with my Guides, who have taught me how to use this shininess to help those who are stuck here.
I’d never been to my friend’s apartment, and as soon as I walked in my skin started to crawl. It’s a tactile sensation that brushes across my shoulders and arms, even my face; depending on the spirit’s energy this can be pleasant, painful, ticklish…it varies. This time, it felt prickly, warm and angry. My shoulders tensed and I felt a tingling line trace up and down my neck. This place did not have a happy feel.
“How long have you lived here?” I’m sure my tone came out sarcastic and critical, because I was thinking she’d been there too long already, an emotion that was coming through from the spirits I was sensing. We’d already talked about paranormal subjects, and I knew she was open to them so I didn’t hesitate.
“You know there’s at least one spirit here, right now? Have you been having any problems?” She was taken aback by my directness, “Well, yes!” She sounded both relieved and exasperated. I asked if I could walk around and get a feel for the place. The bedroom was a windowless corner in the basement apartment, and the fulminating presence made the room even darker. Passing my hand in front of the doorway was like touching a wind made of deep anger. Oh, she is pissed, I thought. Out loud though, I told my friend, “It’s in here, she’s in here.” Still standing in the living room my friend only nodded and then told me, “I can’t sleep in that room, I can’t hardly stand to be in it, it just gives me the creeps!”
“Really?” But I knew she was telling the truth, the bed was piled with clothes and boxes. “So, you sleep, where?” I asked. “The couch.” She waved her arms at the large, comfy looking black leather loungers. “Look, we’ve gotta go, or we’re going to be late.” The spirits were amping up their energy in response to my psychic poking around, and neither one was happy. It spilled over onto my friend and she was anxious for us to get out. It was a few weeks later that she asked me to come over and see if I could do anything.
There were two spirits sharing the apartment with my friend, and they were not getting along at all. One was attached to my friend, something she addressed in the ensuing weeks, but the other was attached to the residence. This resident spirit was a woman in her 40’s who showed me images of the sun, and beaches, when she finally calmed down.
But right now, these two were like feuding roommates, and my friend was caught in the middle. She was practically vibrating in response to the tension being generated between the two spirits. The spirit attached to my friend was primarily concerned that I would try to separate him from my friend; he was very protective. I reassured him and asked him to move back and away, then I turned to the other one; at that time all I could determine was that the spirit was female.
She was in the doorway of the bedroom, wailing and complaining. “This is my place! He can’t push me around like that! He is all over, telling me what to do, and this is my place! My room! I can’t even keep him out of my room!” I let her go on for a few minutes, tried to get her to calm down and couldn’t. She did not want to listen, just wanted to make everyone else around her pay for her misery. So I separated them.
I made it clear that either could chose to move on at any time, I showed them the veil and invited them to cross. But when both quite rudely refused, I told the woman, “You cannot continue to fight, here, and upset my friend. So for now, go to your room and stay there.” My friend had some sea salt, so I sprinkled a line across the doorway to the bedroom and told the woman. “Stay in there, or cross the veil. It’s your choice, but stop fighting with the other guy.” I was equally firm with the male spirit, he could move on, or remain near my friend, but he could no longer antagonize the female spirit. The sea salt would keep him away from her as much as it would keep her in.
I knew though, it was only a temporary fix, and that the salt wouldn’t hold them forever. I didn’t intend for it to. I told my friend I’d come back soon and we’d all have a longer chat. Sure enough, she reported a few quiet nights. When things started back up, they weren’t quite as angry, but both were definitely still present and generating intense emotions.
I went back, and walked into my friend’s unused bedroom.
“You were really rude!” The woman, who called herself Sunny, complained as soon as I sat down on the bed. I’m not sure if Sunny was really her name, or just her favorite thing, because a big, warm sun always accompanied images of her. “You threw salt at me! Rude!” She was right. I don’t like pushing spirits around, but I’d been short on time; they’re still people and deserve to be treated with respect. I focused on slowing down and giving Sunny my full attention. “You weren’t exactly listening to me, or helping the situation, but you’re right, it was rude and I am sorry. I really am here to help.” I told her, while I looked around my friend’s bedroom, it was dark, and the air felt tight and hard to breathe. Sunny’s presence swirled around me, and my skin and face tingled. She was angry still, but at least now she was willing to talk.
“Help, how? Why? I was happy, lying on the beach…” Sunny filled my head with warm golden days, and I saw her as she last remembered herself. She had curling gold hair shot with grey, and the slightly leathery, perma-tanned skin of a woman who has spent a lot of time in the sun. She saw herself lying on a towel, gazing out across the water; an older, but still trim bikini-clad body lay with toes pointing toward the shore. I heard the music she was listening to; a crackly radio played the Beach Boys, Led Zepplin and Boston, and I felt the heat of the sun as it hung low in the sky, sinking into the west. Sunny spoke again. “Then she moved in, and he’s here, and everything’s gone to shit! Why’d he have to harsh my high? I just want to lay here in the sun.” She drifted a little, losing herself in her memories of life.
I reminded Sunny that she was dead, and she snapped back. “Yeah, I know! This is it, I’m stuck here in this apartment.” She was bound to this place for some reason, and so spent her time lost in her happier memories, until jarred out of them. She was constantly disturbed by my friend’s male spirit, and so made her displeasure well known, because it kept her from her dreams of life and the beach.
“You do not have to stay here, Sunny. You can move on, go home.” Sunny just scoffed. “What, go to heaven?” She rolled her eyes. “Right! Just leave me alone, let me go back to the beach.” She drifted around the room, retreated into the back of the closet and sulked.
Sometimes, they need to be shown; they don’t know there is a home to go to. I asked my Guides to bring the veil in closer. But where is home? What is the veil? I don’t know, really I don’t. They are convenient terms and labels I use to describe places and states that are difficult to put into words. As I have experienced it, ‘home’ is the place where we reconnect with Spirit, capital ‘S’ Spirit, the Big One. Heaven, Valhalla, ‘the other side’, ‘into the light’ take your pick, I use ‘going home.’ The veil is what separates ‘home’ from ‘here.’ I see it as a large, shimmery wall that feels soft, like fur or cashmere and kind of tingles when I touch it. When I ask my Guides to bring the veil in closer it makes the veil more apparent. I don’t know what the physics of it might be, but it makes the veil and what’s beyond it more discernible, to me and to the spirit I’m talking with.
When the veil appeared, Sunny focused her attention on it. “What is that?” Her emotions were a blend of fear and awe. It was beautiful, but she didn’t know what to expect from it. I did my best to show her, that she could cross the veil, go home, and she would no longer be stuck here. “You can lay on the beach forever if you want, and never be disturbed again.” I told her. She only scoffed, and retreated further into the closet, more fearful now than interested in the veil. She turned her attention away from me, sinking back into her summer dreams. I asked my Guides to see if they could find any of Sunny’s loved ones who were in spirit, or her Guides, and reconnect them with Sunny. At that time, they could not, she’d been disconnected and lost in her memories for so long my Guides could not immediately locate Sunny’s Guides.
“Here’s the deal Sunny, you can do whatever you want. Go home, or stay in this closet, it’s your choice. Take your time to think about it, and I’ll have a chat with the male spirit, and ask him to leave you alone. You’ve been here so long, you don’t know if you want to move along, that’s okay. If you change your mind about crossing the veil, I’d like to offer you something to make it easier for you to find.”
In Reiki II, I learned an energy medicine technique called the Bridge of Light. This is an energetic bridge between the earth plane and home, made using Reiki. I then ask my Guides to bring any of the spirit’s loved ones or Guides to the Bridge, to help when the spirit decides to cross. I offered the Bridge of Light to Sunny; she looked at it with suspicious curiosity. “You can cross at any time, or never. But, please, for my friend’s sake, tone down the heavy, scary vibes. I’ll ask the male spirit to leave you alone, tell him you don’t mean any harm.” I stood, and brushed at my arms and legs, sweeping away clinging energies. “Are we good, Sunny?” She turned her back on me, but nodded in assent. Her emotions were quieter now; less angry, more speculative. She sank again into her own thoughts, fading from my view, and the mood in the room lifted. Even though I’d left the lights off, it suddenly seemed brighter in there.
I checked in with my friend, and Sunny a few days later. My friend was happier because her invisible roommates were no longer fighting, and Sunny was more curious about the Bridge, but still wary. I was pleasantly surprised then when a week later Sunny came and visited me. She’d decided to cross the veil and had come to say thank you, and goodbye, disappearing into a dark gold sunset.
I waited a few weeks, and then asked my friend how things were going at her apartment. “Quiet, it’s been amazingly quiet. I’ve been very happy!” There was no more emotional turmoil from her spirit roommates, and she could no longer feel Sunny’s presence. The last thing she said was the best news I could have heard. “I’ve been sleeping in my bed for the last two weeks!” She declared happily.
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